Interrogations and Infiltrations
by Face of Poe
Summary: Dark Nest AU/alternate ending- in which Jaina is captured by Jag  rather than Leia  and Jag is never shot down- Jaina is taken aboard Jag's ship and interrogated by dark!Jag.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: All belongs (sadly) to Lucasfilms and co, and Troy Denning…

**Setting**: End of Dark Nest- imagine Jaina were captured by Jag instead of Leia... with some twists involved, of course. Be warned though- **very** AU.  
><strong>Characters<strong>: Primarily Jaina and Jag, with Han, Leia, Zekk, Saba & some Chiss OCs.  
><strong>Warning<strong>: This will be rough on Jag fans during parts 1 and 2 (out of 3)...  
>Also- borrowed some dialogue from <em>The Swarm War<em>, just used in slightly different situations...  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T for torture-related violence and strong innuendo

**Interrogations and Infiltrations**

**Part I**

The low hum that always accompanied being on a ship, however big or small, was the first thing she noticed; she was a pilot at heart, a pilot by nature- it _would_ be the first thing she noticed.

The second thing was a gentle whir that suggested the operation of nearby machinery.

The third thing was the ache in her head, dissipating by the second, but still strong enough to blur her memories, cloud her thoughts.

The fourth thing was that she couldn't move, save to wriggle her fingers and blink her eyes, and she wondered if she'd been paralyzed in the crash.

_Crash_?

Vague images of a dogfight in Tenupe's atmosphere came flooding back; dozens of Clawcraft sacrificing themselves to the missiles that she and Zekk sent towards the defoliator ships…

Zekk. She reached out, sensed him distant but alert, and relief spilled through their bond that was part-Joiner and part-battle meld, as he felt her return to consciousness. They were much too far away to share thoughts now, but his worry was clear, and a questioning sense, wondering where she was…

With his help, she fought the lingering haze, tried once more to more her arms or legs, found she couldn't… tried to turn her head, nothing… and finally blinked her eyes several times, trying to focus on the dimly lit room around her.

It was small and barren; dark permacrete walls and a durocrete floor; one wall that her Jedi senses suggested was for one-way observation, and that thought gave her pause. Her eyes swiveled in their sockets, trying to take in as much as possible as Zekk's sense of worry increased, and her own mind began to catch up with the implications of what she was seeing and feeling…

An interrogation chamber- or a torture chamber. Or both. She wasn't paralyzed, she was strapped to a chair, even her head so securely fastened as to prevent motion. Her arms were bound in multiple, strategic places, leaving only her fingers mobile.

This would have seemed horribly inconvenient, if she hadn't already realized that a quick nudge with the Force at each of the restraints would have her free in seconds. For now though, it seemed prudent to ascertain just where she was, which meant trying to better remember how she got here…

Zekk's presence pressed harder, urging her to focus, to remember… and one image came clear above the others- her StealthX diving closer to the planet, following a spinning Clawcraft as she frantically urged the pilot to eject on the open channel, breaking all sorts of comm silence protocols for the stealth fighters.

Why had the Clawcraft been crashing? Oh, right- because she and Zekk had shot it down.

Had shot _Jag_ down.

And she had followed, unable to bear the pain of seeing him crash to his fiery death, not when there might still have been a chance to save him. They were over, but she still cared for him, had never wanted him to die, despite being on opposite sides of a devastatingly bloody war that had already claimed millions of Killik lives and tens of thousands of Chiss.

That still didn't explain how she got here- or where this was.

A snarky wave from Zekk ordered her to refocus, and she got the sense that he was… with other Jedi? Her parents maybe? It was difficult to say, and she didn't linger on it as she recalled the sudden, startling pull up that the Clawcraft had executed at the last minute, swinging up over her fighter and pushing her towards the surface as other ships emerged to flank her sides, eliminating the possibility for escape… her yelling at Zekk to steer clear, that nothing would be accomplished by them _both_ dying or being captured…

Captured then- by the Chiss, she supposed. Jag had tricked her, though she supposed that she couldn't allow this to surprise her much, he'd been more than willing to try to kill her since the first time they had engaged in battle on or over Tenupe.

Well, there could be worse spots- this was the Chiss. They were firm people, but honorable, and didn't hold with unnecessary cruelties… and in either case, she would tolerate an interrogation only exactly as long as she wanted, and surely they realized that? Why they even bothered to strap her in was beyond her wildest imaginings, they _knew_ she was a Jedi…

To save her life, she couldn't remember what had happened as she was pushed closer and closer to the jungle canopy… clearly she hadn't careened to a fiery death. Ejected perhaps? Or… had she surrendered?

Zekk gave her a clear image of her StealthX re-ascending through the Tenupe atmosphere, flanked and missile-locked by six Chiss fighters, another two squadrons above and below them… Zekk finally veering away from the haze of turbolaser fire at her insistence…

But she had no clear memories after that, after she had vanished from Zekk's line of sight, after their link had dissipated due to distance… had no recollection of how she had fallen unconscious and how she ahd gotten here…

The glimmer of approaching presences caught her attention, and she tensed against the restraints, trying to count them… five, she thought, though two stopped approaching distantly… and one felt different from the other four- and familiar…

A whir indicated the opening of a door behind her, but the three figures walked with surprising softness. Gliding smoothly, one grey-uniformed Chiss male, red eyes blazing, came to a halt directly in front of her, about two meters away from the edge of the chair. Pushing aside the last remnants of groggy pain, she met his eyes evenly, relaxing her face into cool indifference.

His glowing eyes slid up and down a few times, lingering over key places and designed to put her on edge, make her uncomfortable. Rather, she quirked a brow and spoke in a deadpan voice.

"The 'undressing me with your eyes' routine is a little old; but if you're really that interested, why don't you just ask Commander Fel? He's standing right over my left shoulder." Only a slight contraction of his pupils indicated his surprise, or consternation. "Oh, sorry; that whole 'sleeping with the enemy' thing is frowned upon, isn't it?"

A low chuckle- familiar, but dark and cold- sounded from behind her, and the man in question stepped into view and considered her, eyes calculating. "It's Captain Fel now, actually," he murmured, letting his own eyes drift over her body. Oddly, from him… it unsettled her so much more than it had from the interrogator.

"Ah," she masked her discomfort with her wry tone. "Well- flying with a fighter squadron, overseeing prisoner transport and interrogation… lowly work for a command-grade officer, isn't it, _lover boy_?"

"Do _not_ call me that," he hissed. The interrogator's eyes glanced quickly towards Jag, either confused or annoyed, and Jaina guessed that Jag wasn't really supposed to be here. Trained interrogators never let it get personal, and would never have displayed that level of emotion at a captive's response.

She continued without pause, eager to exploit their weakness they had displayed by bringing Jag in here in the first place. "You know, Jag, you really shouldn't take this whole Killik thing so personally; you and I were long over before Zekk and I met Taat."

Something in Jag's aura shifted, gave her pause. Then, a slow, cruel smirk spread across his face and he leaned down closer to her, making her consider snapping the restraints right now just to make him recoil in surprise.

"You think I care whose antennae you rub, Jaina?" he murmured lowly. "Not at all; I must confess though, I suddenly realized something about the mission you young Jedi went on back during the Yuuzhan Vong incursion; Zekk was there with you, right?" She frowned and said nothing, not sure where this was leading. "Well- maybe if you'd been more focused on your mission, rather than getting a little _private_ action, you wouldn't have let your younger brother die and your twin get captured."

The fact that there was no truth to it did nothing to prevent the wrenching of her heart. She felt a sudden flare of anger from Zekk and knew that he had ascertained enough to know that it was Jag who was antagonizing her, and that it had something to do with Anakin- always a devastating subject for her and, consequently from their bond, to him. Hot tears stung her eyes and she blinked furiously, willing herself to calm down and not snap, not do something irrational and stupid…

"Captain Fel?" the interrogator murmured, beckoning him to the other side of the room. "A word?" They walked to the far side of the room and spoke in low tones- too low for a normal human to hear, perhaps. Not too low for a Jedi. "Captain Fel, this is an intelligence interrogation, not an airing of personal grievances and histories. If you cannot conduct yourself in a professional manner, I will have no choice but to remove you from the session."

When he spoke, Jag's tone was soothing, persuasive. "Lieutenant, I am here precisely due to my superior knowledge of and acquaintance with the prisoner; it has been cleared with your commander. And might I remind you that you are dealing with a Jedi; your normal routines will not work on even the weakest of them, and this one…" he glanced over at her, a predatory smirk on his face, probably full-well aware that she could hear him. "This one would run your men in circles."

Hesitatingly only a moment and sounding mildly resigned, the lieutenant said, "Yes, sir. Then we are proceeding with your… plan?"

That caught her attention, made her frown and wonder. Jag simply nodded though, and approached her again at a brisk pace. "Well, Jagged," she said, voice cool, "war has hardened you; you were always a little grim for my liking, but never cruel."

He stared impassively. "It's a hard galaxy we live in, Jaina. Get used to it." The lieutenant disappeared behind her chair and she fought the urge to follow him with her eyes. Instead, she steadied her gaze on Jag as he once more leaned in close to her. "Jaina…" he murmured. "We could have been so much more, you and me… but then, you had to side with them again…" he leaned his mouth in close over her ear, murmuring softly, putting her more on edge than ever before. "Tell me, Jaina," his voice was husky, "do you think about me when you're with _him_? Does he hear your thoughts as you remember the nights we used to spend together…?"

She felt him reach for something behind her, sensed the motion of his hand as he brought it back around. Tensing, sensing a sudden danger tingling up her spine, she jerked painfully in the restraints, unlatching those on her left side almost by accidental impulse than through clear effort. He was fast and strong though, and in a better position as he pinned her arm with the weight of his body just long enough to press an injector pen and depress the spring, shooting a fast, biting pain into her upper arm. She swung her arm around, sent Jag stumbling backwards with a shove through the Force, sensed Zekk's sudden confusion at her panic…

"What was that?" she demanded, staring at the pen still clasped in his hand. "What did you… ahh…" a low but fiery pain was starting in her shoulder.

"Leave us," Jag barked at the two men behind her. "Send in the package." He slowly approached her once more. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "It'll all be over in less than a minute. The worst part will be in about… ten seconds."

The pain was spreading and growing more intense, and it took all of her willpower in the Force to suppress it as it spread into her chest, crept along her neck and into her head. As her abdomen and legs erupted in pain though, the whole sensation intensified. Reflexively, needing to escape the chair as though it were causing it, she wrenched the restraints away with the Force but was paralyzed, unable to move. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she sensed Zekk panicking, sensed her mother reaching out for her in worry…

"Impressive," Jag murmured, peering into her wild eyes. "You almost look unaffected. I can see it in your eyes though; and you're starting to sweat," he cupped her face and smiled sadly, then made a motion towards someone, or a door, or a camera, she couldn't even bring herself around to look, so intent she was on stopping the torturous pain, a vague part of her feeling betrayed…

She sensed a coldness in the next room, registering distantly in the back of her mind. It was growing closer though, and she heard footsteps rather than felt them in the Force, and the terrifying implications of that made her stare, gasping at Jag, mouth working but making no sound. He just shook his head sadly, kneeling in front of her.

And then the coldness was on her- at the same moment, she lost the ability to keep the pain at bay and the fiery heat stabbed at her every nerve ending and she wanted to die then, wanted nothing more than to escape this suffering that she didn't understand. She heard a cry and detachedly realized that it came from her own throat, a keen wail of sharp pain, felt hands on her, heard a door close…

And as abruptly as it came on, the pain ceased. "Shh," Jag was murmuring, hugging her to him, stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, Jaina, we had to… it was the only way…"

Her small hands shoved at him roughly. "Get away from me!" she yelled, falling forward out of the restraining chair as he complied. Her mind worked frantically as she stared at the 'package' that had been brought into the room. "Jag!" she exclaimed. "What have you done?"

"It was the only way, Jaina," he repeated. "I'm sorry that we had to hurt you."

"But…" she paled. "_Ysalamiri_, Jag? Don't you understand…? My mother, my uncle... Zekk… they'll think I'm dead! They'll come after you!"

He looked at her sharply, though a slow smile was spreading across his face.

"I'm counting on it."

X-X-X-X

**A/N:** Just a little piece I've had sitting around for a few weeks… only 3 parts long. :-)


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II**

"Jaina!"

"No!"

Han swerved sharply, en route to rendez-vous with the Jedi squadrons, having recovered Zekk from his ruined craft and needing time to work out just what the best method would be to recover Jaina from the Chiss- assuming she didn't break herself free first. "What?" he demanded frantically, veering back on course. When neither Leia nor Zekk answered, he turned around… and felt his heart plummet at their identical expressions of devastation.

"This one…" Saba was uncharacteristically hesitant and subdued, "sensed your daughter in great pain."

"_Sensed_?"

Zekk's voice was hoarse. "She was being interrogated, and I think… I think Jag was with her."

"Jag?" Han asked. "What the hell would he be doing running an interrogation session? And since when do the Chiss torture Alliance prisoners?"

"Han," Leia's wavering tone made him stop raving, and his heart dropped another meter to his boots. "I don't sense her at all. She was in pain and now…" her voice broke.

"No," he said forcefully. "No. That isn't… the Chiss wouldn't… _Jag _wouldn't…"

Saba spoke up again, softly. "Perhapz the _Fell Defender_ haz been destroyed?"

Time stopped as he scanned the various transceiver signals, looking for one among hundreds… but he found it. "No, it's there," he said gruffly, hesitating only a moment before swinging the _Falcon_ around, veering back towards the planet where hundreds of Chiss ships and dozens of Star Destroyers sat, blockading the atmosphere.

"Han, what are you…?"

"I'm going to find out what's happened to my baby girl!"

X-X-X-X

A sharp wave of despair hit Luke Skywalker and he stumbled as he led dozens of Lando's _Bugcrusher_ droids aboard the _Admiral Ackbar_. "Jaina," he whispered, reaching out and feeling nearly identical bouts of devastation from Leia and Zekk, from Mara and Jacen back on Coruscant, even from Kyp Durron and Lowbacca on a more subdued, less confident level.

He bit his lip and sighed, heart aching for Leia, but knowing that it would only hinder his own mission if he allowed himself time to worry about his niece now. Whatever had happened was done, and he could do nothing for Jaina now, and he knew it.

And Lomi Plo was going to know it too.

X-X-X-X

"Jagged," she whispered, "I don't understand." She was standing against the far wall, trapped without the Force, pinned by his hard gaze. "The Jedi _aren't_ your enemies here, nor are my parents. They want the same things you want. Why would you be trying to lure them here?"

His tone was low and hissing. "The Jedi have been working against us from the start."

"They haven't," she insisted, wondering how this had gone so awry, how the Chiss would have allowed an interrogation like this to occur; it wasn't even an interrogation, she was just bait. "And if you feel that Zekk and I pose a threat to the Ascendancy, I'm sorry, but we don't believe in specicide. We always wanted to _prevent_ a war, you're the ones who brought it to _us_!"

"Spare the lecture," he commanded in a ringing tone that almost sounded Force-enhanced; perhaps the ysalamiri was getting to her. "You're threatening our way of life, and we won't let it continue."

She shook her head, stunned, unable to process how he'd sunk so low as to torture her to trick her family into thinking her dead. "You're wrong; my uncle is going to kill Lomi Plo, the Jedi are going to capture Raynar Thul, and-"

"Silence!"

"I thought this was an 'intelligence interrogation,'" she bit. "How am I supposed to give you intelligence if I don't say anything?"

His lips quirked. "Oh, I think we'll learn a lot from you, Jaina Solo…" his eyes darted over to a tray behind the abandoned chair; it held all manner of intimidating instruments that she knew were more to get prisoners to talk than to actually use on them, but she couldn't help but reanalyze that assumption after what had just happened. He saw her gaze, and his hand came to rest casually on the blaster at his hip.

"Cute," she sneered, more courageously than she felt. "But there's nothing for you to scare out of me. Zekk and I have been pinned down here for weeks, you know that, you've tried to kill me enough times on the surface _and _in the air. All I know is that Uncle Luke has a plan and my parents are trying to help him carry it out, and it'll _end_ this whole mess."

His head tilted as he faced her down, and then he strode over and regarded the instrument tray, studying it, trying to frighten her into displaying her fear… "I don't think that's true. You know a lot more; like which Jedi are out there, I'm not stupid. You have your little mind-link technique, don't you? Not unlike that with your little _Joiner_ friend?"

"My battle meld was with Zekk alone," she said honestly. "I don't know who else is here besides my mother and Saba, and Uncle Luke."

"Oh?" he selected a tool and examined it against the light. "How about… your aunt? Your brother?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Then it would aggrieve you to learn that they were both injured recently?" She stared, unsure whether to believe him. "They both nearly died, but I hear they'll make a full recovery."

"Don't sound so enthused."

He continued as though she had not spoken, walking slowly and menacingly towards her. "What of the other Masters?" he asked. "What of… Master Durron, for instance? Do you still see Kyp Durron, Jaina? Do you still sleep with the man old enough to be your father?" Her eyes widened, shocked. A low hiss could be heard and he pressed a hand to a piece in his ear before scowling, turning towards a camera, she thought, and making a slicing motion with his hand. The hissing stopped, and she realized that, again, the lieutenant had been urging him to keep this professional.

Yeah, right.

"We could all become Joiners with you, Jaina," he smiled sweetly. "Me, Zekk, Kyp… your revolving door of suitors for the past ten years… just think about it, Jaina, you and the three of us at your beck and call… think of how your little 'Dawn Rumble' would become so much more… interesting…"

She froze. "What did you say?"

"We said nothing," he replied innocently.

She opened her mouth to argue, to yell… and then the import of his words caught up to her. But… it wasn't possible… was it? "_We_, Jag?" she asked carefully. "Who is 'we'?"

His eyes- once a pale green, now burning black in fury and… something else- flashed, and he pushed her up against the wall. "Don't try your little mind tricks on me, Jaina; have you forgotten your diminished powers already?"

But she just continued to stare, horrified, into his eyes, trying to make sense of what her gut was telling her. "They got to you," she whispered. "The dark nest… the Gorog… Lomi Plo got to you, Jag… she's Joining you…"

With a snarl, he brandished the tool he had been examining and pressed it to her face. She felt the pinprick of blood on her cheek, just under her eye, and stiffened. "Nice try, Jedi," he hissed. "But it won't work. This is _my_ ship. No one comes aboard without my approval."

"Not even insects smaller than your thumb-nail?" she bit. His response was to drag the sharp instrument down her face, not deep enough to do serious damage or scar permanently, but deep enough to bleed- a lot- and hurt even more.

Gasping, missing the use of the Force, she reached for his arm as he brought the tool around to her other cheek; he grappled with her a moment before slamming the arm back against the wall, but before he could retaliate for her struggle, the door flew open and the same lieutenant called out to him, abandoning the use of the private comm in his alarm.

"Captain! Our orders are strict that _no_ Alliance prisoners are to be tortured! My superior was already risking his neck in agreeing to use the serum on her."

Jag pulled away from Jaina and snarled back. "Those orders came from _me_, Lieutenant, and as your ultimate commanding officer and overseer of this vessel, I am _countermanding_ them in the instance of this prisoner! If you have a problem with that, you may take it up with the fleet commander."

The interrogation officer stared at the two of them, met Jaina's terrified eyes… and nodded slowly. "Yes, captain." He backed slowly away, eyes never leaving hers until the door slid closed again.

"Now," Jag reached out and gripped her face, pulling her eyes back to him. "That hurts, doesn't it?" She bit her tongue and glared at him. "You wouldn't want to have a matching scar on the other cheek, would you? It would be a shame to completely mar your pretty looks…"

His eyes slid down her body again, and she acted, lashing out with her left hand to seize his hand that held the sharp instrument, trying to buy herself a second to, in the confusion, snatch the blaster off of his right hip. They struggled, he snarled, the tool dug deeply into the palm of her left hand, making her gasp in pain…

And she pulled away with the blaster at the same moment he drove his elbow into her head and shoulder, sending her to the floor. "Fight her, Jag!" she cried. "You're too strong for this, can't you see what she's doing? She wants you to distract Uncle Luke from killing her…" she grasped for the blaster where it had slid a half-meter from her grasp, felt the reassuring coolness of the metal against her palm…

And then excruciating pain was radiating up her arm, she could no longer feel her hand at all… and with a strange sort of detachment, as she cried out like a wounded prey animal, she realized that he had just slammed his heavy boot- not into the blaster, to prevent her from lifting it- but into her unprotected wrist. Bones shattered, her vision tunneled… vague sounds were coming selectively through her ears, she barely registered the hiss of the door sliding open again, the rush of several blue-skinned soldiers into the room…

She looked up in a haze of pain, her eyes met those of the lieutenant. He blinked once, blaster trained on her just like all of the others in the room… and then he shifted his aim and fired an arcing blue stun bolt into Jag's chest. "Medic," he snapped, and a Chiss female entered from the next chamber, hurrying gracefully to Jaina's side while several heavily-armed soldiers stood guard around Jag, a second medic emerging to check his vitals.

"S'not his fault," she slurred her words through the pain, head clearing slightly with a stim-shot. "She's got 'im…"

"Get her to the med bay," someone ordered as the medic splinted her injured wrist, making her cry out softly in a fresh wave of pain. "And someone tell Commander Nesh'iibi'thon that he's now in charge of the _Fell Defender_!"

Everything began to fade out again, but she was vaguely aware of being lifted and carried from the room. "My… parentsss," she murmured. "It's a trap…"

And then she was unconscious, unable to fight the pain- and moments later, they passed out of the ysalamiri bubble.

X-X-X-X

Zekk jerked as the presence he had been willing to rematerialize came flooding back to his senses. Leia gasped lightly beside him, and Han looked over with a frightened look on his face. "Jaina?" he asked.

"Yes, she's… alive. Unconscious again, I think, I don't sense her very well… but alive."

"Yszalamiri?" Saba asked, flicking her tongue over her pebbly lips.

He shrugged, relieved despite still not knowing what had happened. "I suppose. What the Chiss are doing with ysalamiri though…"

The hailing channel beeped, causing everyone to start. Han frowned and switched on the private channel, startled to see a stoic Chiss face materialize before him.

"Captain Solo, be advised that any attempt of boarding the _Fell Defender_ is not recommended-"

"I wasn't really looking for permission," Han growled, cutting him off, not bothering to ask how they knew he was coming.

"Be that as it may, we suspect that we have been infiltrated by the Gorog nest; until we complete our investigation, we cannot allow any craft to land or depart."

Han scowled. "Well what have you done with my daughter? I want to speak to Captain Fel _right now_."

"Captain Fel is indisposed…"

"Torturing my little girl!"

"Sir!" the Chiss cut him off. "The situation is being handled; Captain Fel was compromised, we have secured him and are getting the appropriate care for your daughter, who will be fine. This information is highly sensitive, however, and we would appreciate if you kept it to yourselves."

"What about Jaina?" Zekk demanded.

The red eyes contracted in consternation. "When we have thoroughly secured the vessel, you may land and she will be released to you. We have work to do now; Commander Nesh'iibi'thon will be in touch. _Fell Defender_ out."

The four of them just looked around at one another, stunned. "Compromised?" Han asked lowly. "What do you suppose that means?"

"I guess Gorog got to him," Leia said.

"But why make us believe he'd killed Jaina…?" Zekk's eyes drifted as he thought it over. "They knew we were coming; it was a trap to lure us to her. Gorog wants all of us dead, and if we kill Jag in retaliation for 'killing' her, he's just another nuisance they'd be glad to be rid of."

Han and Leia exchanged uneasy glances. "Let's just hope that Luke gets to Lomi Plo, and soon."

X-X-X-X

**A/N: **0:-) couldn't make Jag _that_ evil… part 3 will be up later today, methinks… review! :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III**

He blinked, bright light compounding a vicious headache, but otherwise felt fine, save a little confusion… looking around, he was reasonably sure that he was in the _Fell Defender_'s medical bay, but had no clear recollection of getting here, nor of doing anything that might have landed him here…

Actually, the last thing he remembered at all was trying to draw Jaina and her Joiner mate away from the defoliator ships. Had he gone EV? That seemed the likely explanation, given the short-term memory loss, though it made his brow furrow in consternation at the thought that Jaina might have finally managed to shoot him down.

Groaning, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, taking in the rest of the room, frowning heavily. It was a private room, an isolation ward, generally intended for wounded prisoners or excessively wounded comrades. He was neither, which meant that someone put him in here as a courtesy, something he expressly discouraged- he was a captain, not a VIP, and as a member of the _Fell Defender_ crew, insisted on being treated as any other crew member in practical matters.

Before he had time to contemplate the proper protocol for reprimanding the undoubtedly busy medical staff, the door across the room slid open, admitting a young but serious-looking ensign. "Captain," he nodded his head respectfully. "Do you feel alright?"

"Yes, ensign," he frowned. "Just a minor headache." The ensign snatched something from a shelf and handed it to him as he approached before peering into his eyes and nodding his approval. "Who is your officer of rank down here, ensign?"

"That would be Commander Haun'ourty'naith, sir," Jag stood, popping the small pill into the back of his throat and swallowing it dry, feeling the headache abate almost instantly. "But sir, I am instructed to request that you contact acting commanding officer Nesh'iibi'thon in the comm center at the end of the wing before you talk to anyone else or leave the med bay. He said it was urgent."

Jag's gut twisted slightly. "The battle?"

"Oh," the ensign looked almost surprised he'd ask, "it's been over for a couple of hours now; the Jedi took out the nest leaders."

Well that was… good, he supposed grudgingly. "Thank you, ensign, I'll take my leave now…" he snatched his uniform coat from a table and drew it over his weary shoulders.

And he was out the door quickly, fighting from cringing against the sudden wave of antiseptic smells, barely overlying the copper scent of blood. Straightening and buttoning the front of his jacket as he walked, he stepped lightly around hurried medical personnel, glanced furtively at a few of the beds lining the walls, and continued on his way, forcing the commanding briskness back into his step as he went.

He was straightening his rank pin mid-way down the wing, and consequently almost missed the sudden glance of out-of-place pale skin, limp brown hair swinging over narrow shoulders as the diminutive figure knelt beside one of the cots, removing objects from a travel bag and slipping them onto a utility belt that sat on the bed… including a familiar-looking lightsaber…

"_Jaina_?"

She continued what she was doing, hurrying her movements, awkwardly sliding a blaster into the hip holster with her left hand. Her posture had tensed though, and he suspected that she had simply hoped that he'd walked by without comment when she had sensed his approach.

"Jaina, what are you doing here?"

"Leaving." Her voice was muffled and sounded a little thick with emotion. "Your people have been most hospitable."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I guess they're going a little soft, treating the enemy and all…" She stood and turned, and he stopped speaking abruptly, taking in her wounds. The most obvious was the casted right wrist slung across her body, but his eyes quickly took in the rest- her left hand was bandaged heavily, a long and deep cut ran down one side of her face, a set of deep purple bruises had erupted across the other side of her face and continued on her neck and curving away across her shoulder. "What _happened_ to you?"

She blinked a few times before lifting the utility belt and slinging it around her waist, partially supporting it with her casted forearm and partially using the Force to hold it steady and in place while she awkwardly fastened it with her left hand. Sighing, he moved to help her, but she backed away and gave him a deadly look.

"Jaina…"

"I have to go, Jagged. My parents are landing soon." He met her eyes and frowned; after a moment, her look softened slightly, but did not lose the hard edge. "You really don't remember, do you?"

"Remember?" he asked. "I- no, I just woke up, I think I went EV… did… did I get you?"

She laughed dryly, bitterly. "Yeah, Jagged… something like that." Her eyes darted to his right and he glanced over and saw a sergeant approaching.

"Captain," she acknowledged him with a curt nod. "Ms. Solo, if you're ready, I'll escort you to the hangar."

"Thank you sergeant," she murmured. Slowly and steadily she looked back up and him, and her eyes flickered… "Goodbye, Jagged."

He stared after her, a tingling feeling in the back of his mind that he had missed something… but then she was gone, and he shrugged it off, continuing down to the comm center. A corporal stood outside the door and immediately granted him access. Sliding easily into the chair, he keyed in his access codes and spoke in stilted tones. "I need to speak with Commander Shiibith."

"One moment, sir," the automated system replied in mechanical tones. It was surprisingly fast; less than a minute later, the screen was flickering, and the stern face of his second-in-command materialized.

"Captain," he said, a tight set of his lips betraying the stress he was currently under. "You are well?"

Jag sat back. "Yes, commander; a little hazy on what happened to me though…?"

The Chiss nodded. "Understood; we were told that such would probably be the case."

That made his pause. "Told? By whom? I was under the impression that I went EV over the planet, trying to defend the defoliators, I don't remember anything after that…"

"Ah," the commander's eyes flickered. "No… you returned without incident. I'm afraid… well, sir, it seems that you were compromised by the so-called Dark Nest."

"Compromised?" he asked carefully.

"Yes, sir; the Jedi have passed along the pertinent information to our doctors, they are confident that, with the death of their dark-Jedi leader, Lomi Plo, you are no longer under her influence. But you were in command for a short duration while apparently heavily swayed by the Gorog mind." He stiffened immediately, unconsciously darting his eyes around the room as though looking for the blue insects. "The medics have monitored your brain waves in light of the dark-Jedi's death, and the Jedi's healer has confirmed that you are no longer susceptible."

Well that certainly explained the ensign's insistence that he communicate directly and immediately with his second-in-command. "Did I… compromise our mission?"

"No, sir; it seems…" he hesitated. "I'm sorry, sir, you were discovered when you failed to follow appropriate protocol regarding a prisoner."

He sighed and wiped a hand across his face. "Commander…" he trailed away, heart heavy. "I… I could have cost everyone on this ship their lives. I cannot, in good conscience, maintain my commission knowing that. I hereby offer to tend my resignation, effective immediately, from the Defense Fleet."

The commander's lips quirked slightly. "Yes, Admiral Yitth'rawi'tain told me that you would; he also told me not to accept it, and to tell you that your command will be reinstated as soon as you feel ready to resume it."

Jag considered him for a long moment, and then sighed heavily. "Very well, commander; give me a few minutes and… I wonder if you can give me more detail regarding this… failure of protocol?"

A lengthy silence stretched out between them, and then Shiibith sank down heavily in his chair, and Jag could read the resignation in his eyes. "The admiral also said you'd ask about that; he said to tell you that, if you desire, you can see the security recording from the interrogation. However, he is prepared to erase the data from the intelligence logs, no questions asked; the situation has already been discussed at length with the prisoner in question- who has been released- and other… relevant parties who understand your… condition."

"To erase… commander, I won't be part of a cover up of any sort of incident," he said, voice hard. Then he frowned, puzzled. "Interrogation? I… interrogated a prisoner personally?"

"You insisted upon it, sir."

"Why? Who was it?" Shiibith fell silent again, and Jag stared, eyes going hard. "Commander?"

He sighed. "Captain, understand that- the influence that this dark Jedi was exercising on your mind- you weren't in control of anything you said or did…"

"_Who was it_?"

Three beats passed. "Jaina Solo."

Understanding flooded through Jag, and he realized the source of Jaina's discomfort earlier. "Commander… I of course take full responsibility for my actions… but not only am I untrained in proper interrogation techniques, I should never have been allowed within ten meters of a room containing a prisoner with whom I had a personal history." Shiibith opened his mouth by Jag continued. "I understand that I ordered otherwise, commander, but it was a poor lapse in judgment to even allow a wounded Alliance prisoner to be interrogated prior to reasonable recovery. I should have been neutralized the instant I ordered her sent to that chamber and she should have been sent to recover."

Shiibith's brows contracted. "Wounded, sir?"

"She was badly wounded when we brought her aboard, was she not? I've seen her here in the med bay, I passed her on my way to the comm center."

"Ah; I was hoping she'd already left."

"She told me that I shot her down," Jag pressed. "I… I asked if I got her and she said…" he trailed off, thinking about her vague response.

Shiibith avoided the subject. "Sir, if you'd like to see the recording, I'll start it for you now; I also have Lieutenant Kryn'ithr'onu standing by to join you and answer any… questions about the incident."

Jag just nodded dumbly, and Shiibith spoke into a comlink. Moments later, the door slid open and a male in an intelligence uniform entered, glancing sidelong at Jag. "Captain," he murmured, eyes averted slightly. Jag motioned for him to sit and pressed a button, nodding his stiff thanks to the commander and sitting back to watch the scene unfold.

The image materialized and he blinked twice, a hard knot forming in his stomach at the sight of Jaina's unconscious form bound to the restraint chair. A second holo angle showed her face more closely, and something in him twisted as he realized something…

The deep cut on her face wasn't yet there. His glanced back at the wider angled camera and looked at her hands. No bandages, no casts…

A horrible realization was beginning to dawn on him, but he had to see this, had to know just what had happened that made his own people realize that he was under the sway of the enemy. He watched closely as Jaina spent a couple of minutes shaking herself back into consciousness, saw her blinking blearily… and then the door opened, and he saw himself enter with the lieutenant now sitting by his side and another man, a medic perhaps.

Lieutenant Nithro took the lead, staring intently at Jaina, looking her up and down- her immediate response was to put him on edge by bringing up Jag, and he frowned, knowing that this was _precisely_ why such situations were avoided. Jaina clearly had the upper hand, not to mention that she was a Jedi, could escape the cuffs and straps in the blink of an eye if she'd wanted. Part of him, distant, in the back of his mind, wondered why she hadn't when things went poorly.

And then he blamed her for Anakin's death.

Jag sat back and hissed a breath, raising a hand to his brow as he saw Jaina's eyes well up, saw Nithro pull him aside- with good cause. He frowned as Nithro asked him about a 'plan,' closed his eyes in frustration as he began to goad her about Zekk, about _them_… and then he leaned in close to her, murmuring in her ear, and reached for something from the medic's hand. Jaina saw it coming, of course, but didn't have time to both release the locked cuff _and_ force him away, and he overpowered her long enough to inject her with it.

"What is that?" he demanded of Nithro, who looked uncomfortable and wary. "What did I…" he felt the blood drain from his face as she abruptly stopped speaking and gasped, obviously in pain, stiffening in the chair. "Lieutenant…" he pleaded, "what did I inject her with?"

"It's a commonly used serum in… less civilized society, sir," Nithro winced. "It causes brief but intense pain, can be concentrated or diluted to serve your purpose, and builds up in efficacy over time, but causes no lasting effects. You only gave her a small amount, enough to last maybe a minute."

"And the package?" he demanded. Before he got an answer though, a frame was carried into the room and deposited behind the interrogation chair… and as soon as it crossed the threshold, Jaina cried out and slumped forward into his waiting arms, where he held her and comforted her as she gasped and whimpered, completely oblivious to his touch. "Ysalamiri," he muttered. "Why… how could I…?"

"Ysalamiri_, Jag? Don't you understand…? My mother, my uncle... Zekk… they'll think I'm dead! They'll come after you!" _

"_I'm counting on it."_

He put his head in both hands, but forced his eyes not to leave the screen. "We could stop there, captain," Nithro offered softly, "I think you get the idea…"

"No," he snapped. "I need… I have to know what I've done…" he cringed as the holo showed him peering interestedly at various sharp instruments, cringed even more when he brought up Kyp Durron, essentially called her a slut to her face… and then he mentioned the _Dawn Rumble_. He didn't even know what a Dawn Rumble was, though he could guess well enough from context clues. And then the fateful…

"_What did you say?"_

"_We said nothing."_

"We_, Jag? Who is 'we'?"_

The cold realization was evident in her eyes, even from the distant view offered by the full-room holo angle. He quickly became angry, shoved her against the wall, and pressed the sharp tool he had pocketed against her face when she continued to anger him.

When he saw himself drag it down her cheek, saw the deep cut bleeding freely, he stood up abruptly and knocked his chair over by accident as he put his hand to his mouth, breathing heavily. "Shavit," he muttered, desperately hoping that his holo'd self would listen to the entreaties of the unsure Nithro, but knowing that he hadn't, that Jaina's injuries were hardly accounted for yet…

He sent Nithro away, as he'd known he must have… turned back to Jaina, threatened her with another, matching line to go with the first… and he started in surprise when she tried to fight him, to wrench the tool from his grasp, wondered if her injuries had been sustained as she tried to stab him…

And then he saw her grab the blaster instead, even as her left hand was sliced on the knife, winced as his elbow and arm drove her to the floor, crushing against her face and neck, as she cried out for him to fight against Lomi Plo's dark influence. Had she broken her wrist when she fell? No, she was reaching for the blaster still…

In almost slow motion, he saw himself crush his boot against her bare wrist, heard the crunch of bones, her immediate wail… he backed up against the far wall, hand pressed to his mouth in horror, breathing raggedly. With relief, he saw soldiers pour into the room, blasters trained at her trembling form, her hand still resting against the blaster handle… and then Nithro abruptly shifted aim and sent him to the floor instead, calling for a medic to tend Jaina.

"You made the right decision, lieutenant," Jag spoke softly, and felt a bit of tension leave Nithro's shoulders. "I'm only sorry that you did not feel confident making that decision earlier."

The recording ended seconds later when she was lifted easily and carried from the room. For a long moment, Jag stared at the suddenly blank screen before Commander Shiibith's face reappeared. "Captain?" he asked softly.

He had to pull himself together. Taking several slow, deep breaths, he returned to his seat and met his second-in-command's eyes steadily. "Commander, if she wasn't shot down, how did Jaina Solo end up aboard this vessel?"

"She surrendered, sir; you laid a trap for her and she surrendered, apparently in the attempt to save her wingmate who had already suffered major damage to his StealthX."

"Did I tell you _why_ I was so intent on capturing and interrogating her?" he asked quickly, trying to understand the use of the serum and the ysalamiri.

The commander blinked. "Ah- no, sir. However, her family speculates that Lomi Plo was attempting to draw Master Skywalker's attention from killing her; obviously she failed. Also, Princess Leia and Captain Solo believe that Lomi Plo's ultimate goal was for the Solos to go after you in vengeance, knowing that some of you would be killed either way, eliminating enemies of the Gorog nest. Either way, she clearly played on your… prior relationship with the girl."

"Sir," the lieutenant spoke up to explain. "You told me that the serum was essential to distract her from using her Jedi powers once she undoubtedly realized that the ysalamiri was coming, though obviously that was a half-truth at best; you- or this Lomi Plo, rather- wanted the Jedi to believe her to be dead at your hands."

Of course- the sudden pain, abruptly cut off. He drew in another ragged breath and then snapped his attention back to the screen. "Commander, is the _Millennium Falcon_ still berthed?"

"Ah…" he looked away, checking something. "Yes, sir, but she was just cleared for departure."

"Keep her there," he stood quickly and made for the door.

"Captain…"

"Do _not_ let that ship leave, commander!"

X-X-X-X

"What do you mean, you're rescinding my clearance to take off?"

"Just for a few minutes, Captain Solo."

"I want to get my daughter out of here!"

The poor sergeant sighed. "I understand, sir; but the commander desires a word with you, and requests that you remain where you are."

Han scowled. "We just spoke with your commander," he bit, "and he bid us a hasty retreat once we had Jaina."

"Ah," the sergeant said matter-of-factly. "That was Commander Nesh'iibi'thon; I am referring to Captain Fel."

Han and Saba exchanged looks; Leia and Zekk were in the back with Jaina. "Put him on then," Han said grumpily.

"I'm… sorry, sir, he requests to see you in person, aboard your ship."

He gave a long-suffering sigh. "Look, sergeant, we've been over all of this with Commander Shiibith_…_"

Saba put a clawed hand to his arm and motioned for him to key off the transmission speaker. "Captain Solo, these onez can agree to speak with the captain; thiz doez not mean that these onez muszt allow him to see your daughter."

His lips pursed as he considered, and then he relented. "Fine; sergeant, send him over."

"Already here, Captain Solo," a new voice broke in over the transmission. Indeed, as he scanned out the viewport, he saw a familiar dark-haired figure walk quickly through the hangar, comlink in hand, unusually flustered for a Chiss-trained officer.

"So you are, Jag," Han said tightly. "Standby, we're lowering the ramp…"

Moments after he shut down the repulsorjets and keyed the ramp release, Leia reemerged from the cabin area. "Han?" she asked. "What's wrong, I thought we were taking off?"

"We have a visitor," he smiled sweetly. Heavy boots sounded on the ramp, and moments later, a wild-eyed Jagged Fel stuck his head into the cockpit, quickly scanning those present and seeming unsurprised that Jaina was not among then.

"I have to see her."

"Jag…"

"_Please_," he insisted, breathing heavily from walking far and fast. "I can't… I can't let her leave without another word, not after…" he trailed away, eyes pleading.

Saba spoke up softly, voice hissing. "These onez were under the impreszion that you… did not remember the last several hourz…"

"I don't; I insisted that Commander Shiibith show me the intelligence archive recordings when I was made aware of my… transgressions."

Han whistled. "You're a braver man than us; Jaina point-blank refused to let us see them, insisted to your fleet admiral that he destroy them, no less."

"I had to know," he stated. "And now I need to make amends."

Leia sighed. "Jag, it's really not-"

"It's okay, mom." Jag spun around and saw Jaina standing, weary-eyed, in the cockpit entrance, Zekk behind her with one hand on her un-bruised shoulder. "Jagged?" she jerked her head back towards the aft section of the ship and walked slowly back, inviting him to follow. Zekk started to as well, but she turned and gave him a look- probably spoke inside his head, Jag thought, cringing slightly inside- and he stepped aside, frowning as Jag walked past.

She led him into one of the cabins and shut the door behind them, leaning back against the wall and crossing her good arm over her splinted one. "You don't need to 'make amends,'" she said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. "I could tell as soon as you said 'we' instead of 'I' that you weren't yourself, that she was manipulating you."

"It was inexcusable of me to allow myself to be put in such a situation," he insisted stubbornly, "and it was inexcusable of my crew to allow matters to progress as far as they did, orders or no."

For a long moment, she stared at him, and then chuckled mirthlessly. "Doesn't it seem odd to you," she asked slowly, "that the last thing you remember is us trying to blow each other out of the sky- but upon finding out that you roughed me up a little in the meantime, you're unbearably guilty?"

He bit his lip. "Jaina, it was never personal."

"I know."

"You were leading our enemies' ground forces."

"I know."

"It was my duty."

"Jagged, I _know_!" She sighed, looked away and took a deep breath, and then forced her eyes back to his. "And I don't blame you for it; you did what you had to, I did what I thought was right, and it was our bad luck that we both got caught in the middle, pitted against each other. But… I guess my point is… what difference does any of it make now? Lomi Plo is dead, Raynar Thul is en route to Coruscant, the war is over, and you never have to see me again. What difference does this make, when all is said and done, after all the other ways we've hurt each other in the past several months, in the past several _years_?"

"Jaina, I tortured you; I said horribly hurtful things…"

"I'm a big girl."

"… I shattered your wrist…" he glanced sadly down at the cast. "I guess I just couldn't let you leave without saying I'm sorry."

She studied him for a moment before nodding. "Apology accepted."

She looked like she expected him to leave, but he had to ask one more thing. "Do you mean it- about never seeing you again?"

A very Jaina-like look of frustration crossed her features before her eyes softened and she reached out with her good hand- well, the more-good hand, he thought bitterly- and took one of his. "Jag," her voice was quiet, "I still love you- and I always will. But too much that used to be between us has been broken, there's too much bitterness…" she sighed. "Tell you what; some day, when you can think of me without thinking of the Killiks, of this swarm war, of the lives your people have lost here… can think of me for _me_ again… send me a message. We'll talk then."

He gave her a wry look. "Tell _you_ what- when you're no longer sharing your every thought and emotion with another man… you send _me_ a message."

For a moment, he thought she'd be angry as her lips pursed. But then she relented and deflated. "That's fair," she muttered.

But he still didn't leave. With sad eyes, he reached out a hand and skimmed it across her bruised cheek. "I didn't just 'rough you up,'" he countered softly. She didn't respond and looked down instead. With a last sad look over her wounds, he leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss against her forehead; then, with a sharp turn and the thud of heavy boots on the durasteel deck, he opened the door and was on his way. Vague murmurs suggested he was bidding farewell to her parents and Saba… maybe even to Zekk… and then she felt the steady departure of his presence that still stood out to her like a beacon of light, despite his lack of Force-sensitivity.

Some minutes later, after she'd collapsed in a wearied heap on a bunk, she heard the door open and felt Zekk's presence approach cautiously. He knew she wasn't asleep, their link told him that easily; but he couldn't tell if she wanted to be alone. "I'm alright," she murmured as he sat down next to her on the lower bunk, rubbing his hand in soothing circles on her back.

"I thought I'd lost you," he replied quietly.

"I'm sorry- for what I said to Jag, I mean…"

"I'm not jealous." She twisted her head around slightly to stare at him. "Okay, maybe a _little_ jealous," he amended. "But it's nothing I didn't already know."

"Still friends?"

"Always."

And he laid down behind her, wrapping an arm carefully around her front, avoiding jostling her injured wrist, pulling her close to him comfortingly. He held her like that until she fell asleep with her head against his chest. "But," he murmured against her ear, knowing she couldn't hear him, "I'll always love you."

He slipped out of the room and closed the door to let her sleep.

**Fin**

**A/N**: Thanks for reading! :-) Hope you enjoyed!


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